


Vampires Don’t Get Sick (But Chosen Ones Do)

by Luidi



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Post-Canon, Sickfic, Simon has a cold, Soft Boys, it's all very soft, not beta read we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 15:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20229946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luidi/pseuds/Luidi
Summary: Simon is down with something. (The flu? A cold? Baz has no idea). Baz does know that his boyfriend is sick and being disgusting. He also knows that he’d do anything to make Simon feel better.--Just a short, sweet sickfic





	Vampires Don’t Get Sick (But Chosen Ones Do)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm currently sick and morose so I pumped out my first fic in ages because of it.

** Baz **

Simon Snow is acting particularly disgusting today. He says that, being sick, it’s through no fault of his own and that I should be particularly nice to him. I’ve decided to keep my distance, standing five feet away.

I stare down towards Simon’s blanketed figure on the sofa, as he honks his nose into an already snot filled tissue. Disgusting. 

“Baz,” he murmurs weakly. “Can you gimme my water.” 

Simon’s arm flails towards his bottle sitting on the coffee table. I sigh, bend over and shove it into his outreached hand. His finger’s land on top of mine, and a touch of warmth starts in my hand that slowly thrums up my arm and settles somewhere below my ribcage. Because I’m soft. I’m soft and I like to dwell on all these moments that Simon and I touch as friends, as boyfriends (no longer enemies). Catering to a sick Simon Snow, who has now flopped back into the sofa bonelessly with closed eyes, and is breathing heavily through his open mouth, is more real than any fantasy I dreamt up at Watford. I can’t believe it’s real. 

“What’s the deal Snow? You’ve done nothing for two days, shouldn’t your immune system have beaten whatever this is by now?” 

Simon just grunts, then “….fuck off….we don’t all have a fucking vampire magickal virus shit thing.”

He’s been swearing 50% more than normal, and been making 50% less sense. It makes me smile stupidly, but I change to a sneer when Simon’s eyes open. His brows furrow together, like they do whenever he’s thinking hard about something. 

“Try not to break your brain,” I say. 

Simon doesn’t even acknowledge my comment. “Hey, how come you never helped me when I was sick at Watford,” he says. 

“Don’t be idiotic, I hated you.”

“No you didn’t.” Simon says. Casually. “But you always ran away like I had the plague. I couldn’t even make you sick Baz.” 

“Crowley, Simon,” I say, and he smiles. “I never wanted to be your nurse, and I don’t want to start now.” 

Simon opens his mouth as if to keep the argument going, but all that comes out of him is an almighty sneeze that sends his knees jerking up towards his face, and his wings stretching out of the blankets behind him. It’s a whole spectacle. He straightens his legs and reaches for the tissue already in his lap. It’s so well used by now, I can see it almost disintegrating in his hands. I pick up the tissue box and fling it in his face, before going to sit down on the floor next to him. (Simon complains that all I’ve ever done since Watford is throw things at him now that we don’t have the Anathema to deal with). He grunts, but takes a clean tissue and blows his nose. Again. And again. And _again._

By the time he’s done, I’ve already poked around his lap, and under his three blankets, to grab all the dirty tissues and place them in the bin. The bin that is literally right next to Simon’s head. They were repugnant and so full of snot that they felt cooler than my cold hands. I just hope Bunce doesn’t return from her grocery shop soon, to see me in this state. 

“Ugh, Baz.” Simon whines. “Baz, I hate this.” 

I soften, smile and reach out a hand to brush it gently through his curls. He used to avoid saying my name. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” 

I cup Simon’s cheek gently, and kiss one of his moles, right above his left eyebrow. His face is unfortunately pale, with less gold in it. There’s nothing I like about seeing him in this state. One of his hands finds mine, and he makes a valiant effort to intertwine our fingers. Then Simon Snow is looking at me terribly softly, with his blue eyes slightly hooded but staring straight into mine, that leaves me feeling exposed. I have never seen him look at anyone else quite like this, and I’m slowly leaning down to rest my head against his shoulder. 

Suddenly, I have to dodge an elbow that’s flying straight for my nose. 

“Jesus Christ!” I say, cursing like a normal. Simon got me doing that, and it’s the one thing Fiona likes about him. 

**\---------**

**Simon**

Being sick is terrible. The absolute worst. And the number one most annoying thing about it, is that Baz never has to bloody experience it. 

The prick. 

I don’t get sick that often, about once a year, sometimes not for two. This time around I have a headache that throbs when I move, and feels like my brain is trying to push itself out, and a runny nose that has me breathing through my mouth instead. (Baz says it’s no different to normal.) On top of that, nausea starts in my stomach and comes up to my head whenever I move too quickly. I’ve also been freezing, covering myself with three blankets and a dressing gown. For someone who naturally runs hot, I’ve been feeling quite restricted in all the layers. 

Every once in a while, my temperature goes from arctic to boiling, and I have to flail each one of my limbs to rid myself of all these layers as quick as possible. That’s why Baz is giving me a huge stink eye right now. I almost crooked his nose back the other way with my elbow after escaping from my new self-made sauna. 

“Sorry. I got hot fast.”

Baz doesn’t look like he wants to forgive me right now, which is a shame because 10 seconds ago he was being extremely soft towards me. So soft that in the moment, I didn’t mind being sick if it got him to look at me like that. 

“You wouldn’t want to wreck this pretty face, Snow,” Baz says. And he’s right, too.

I laugh below him, and then an idea hits. Before he can object I grab Baz around the middle and pull him close to me, trying to flip him to land between me and the back of the sofa. The sudden movement makes my head pound and ache so much I have to close my eyes and scrunch my face. 

“Well, that was moronic of you,” Baz declares. 

He’s half lying on top of me, with one knee pushed up against my thigh, and the other leg firm on the ground. Definitely not how I imagined my plan to work. Though now that I think about it, I might have just made him squash my wings more than I already have if I’d succeeded. 

“C’mon Baz,” I say. “You’re always cold and I’m hot right now. Cuddle me and be useful.” 

He glares at me, but starts to shift so he can slide behind, draping one arm around me and pushing all the blankets to the floor. I try to fold my wings in as best as I can, and grab onto his hand because it’s blessedly cool, and I’m currently burning. My attempts to get Baz right where I want him have fucking drained me, and I slump back into his chest and rest my head on the cushion, right beneath his chin. 

This feels nice. 

Baz is doing well cooling down my back, even though my wings are an awkward lump between us, and he’s got his other hand back in my curls, gently massaging my head. _Crowley_ this is making me feel better. 

“Feel better now, love?” he murmurs. Bloody mind reader. 

“Mhmm….yeah,” I sigh. I don’t think I’ve had someone care for me quite in this way. Penny will spell some soup warm for me, and give me a side hug. I don’t remember Agatha caring for me much, whilst I was sick. I don’t remember looking after her either. Despite my stuffed head and congested nose, I just feel good in Baz’s arms right now. Until recently, I didn’t know things could feel this right. “I might fall asleep….”

He tried to cast some healing spells on me when I first got sick, but everyone’s magic feels different when it’s cast on me after I lost mine. It’s like because I don’t have my own now, I can’t reach out and accept it. 

Having my boyfriend cuddle me better seems an acceptable alternative cure. 

**\---------**

**Baz**

Simon lies in front of me, resting peacefully. He’s a bloody furnace right now, and I’m feeling a similar amount of warmth compared to when I’ve finished a feed. I used to believe I would never have this kind of peace. (Or be alive. Sort of). 

I look down and stare at Simon’s face because I can. His hair is a bit matted with sweat, and he’s still breathing so heavily through his mouth. I don’t need to study the darker moles, I know them all, but I look for new patches of light freckles that are the slightest shade darker than his skin. They’re standing out right now, with his pale complexion. I’m adoring every single second of this moment. 

This moment, however, doesn’t last long.

Simon groans and rolls over, reaching for the abandoned floor blankets. Then he rolls back, and wildly flaps his wings, knocking them right into me. 

“Cold, cold, Crowley I’m so cold. Get off, Baz.” His wings and feet are pushing me to sit up at the end of the sofa, as he piles four layers back over him. I feel my face start to pout, but before I can get up and stomp off in a huff, something hooks around my arm as Simon pushes his legs into my thigh. A red cartoon Devil’s tail is stopping me from storming off, and Simon is looking a bit sheepish. “It got so cold, super fast,” he says. 

“I’m not here to help you with thermodynamic equilibrium,” I sigh, as I move a hand to rub one of his calves through the blankets. His tail wraps around my arm just a bit tighter. 

**\---------**

Bunce comes back an hour later to Simon still lying down, and me sitting between the coffee table and Simon, holding his plate of plain scones. He’s chewing half of one, slowly. Bunce puts her shopping bags down, then comes and stands over us. 

“How’re you feeling, Si.” 

He shrugs. 

“He’s only eaten half a plain scone, and a bit of butter” I say. 

“I’m not that hungry,” Simon says.

“Simon? Not hungry?” says Bunce. “Merlin’s beard you must be sick. And I just thought you’d been playing it up to get Baz’s attention.” 

My eyes snap to her while Simon and I speak at the same time.

“I’m not a nurse.”

“I always have Baz’s attention.” 

Bunce raises an eyebrow and walks away, to start unpacking groceries. 

I turn back to Simon as he, yet again, blows his nose. 

“C’mon love, just try and eat another half,” I say. He groans, so I add, “I’ll start shoving it in your mouth next.” 

“Ugh, I want a better nurse,” he quips. 

“Well,” I say, “you’re not getting one.”

He grins now, and takes my hand in his, giving it a kiss like he did many months ago. 

“No,” Simon says softly, “I think you’ll do best.” 

I melt a bit inside. Vampire's don't get sick, but I guess Chosen Ones do, and I do enjoy taking care of mine.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed this short fic I made because 1. I've been listening to the audiobook for the first time and 2. Have also been under the weather and needed an outlet for it. This isn't beta'd at all, so any comments about mistakes etc. would be greatly appreciated! I had a lot of fun writing this, and hope I can write more because I want to keep improving. Thanks for reading!
> 
> I'm on tumblr @luidiwrites


End file.
